


Charlie

by Cantatrice18



Category: Dollhouse
Genre: Blackmail, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:53:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cantatrice18/pseuds/Cantatrice18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adelle has made her superiors unhappy too many times for comfort, and so the higher-ups at Rossum have devised a plan to keep her loyalties secure.</p>
<p>In the meantime, an active named Charlie is transferred to the L.A. dollhouse for a special engagement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

She let sleep slowly fade away, her body complaining all the while. It wanted her to stay nestled under her covers, safe in the quiet darkness of her room. She felt a warm hand beneath her breast and her own hand slid up to caress it – Roger always had the effect of making her wish night would never end. Yet underneath all of the comfortable numbness that came with sleep there was a cautionary note that sounded in her mind, telling her that, somehow, something was not right. Her thoughts strayed back to the day before, that horrible day, and she remembered quite clearly that Victor had been reserved for an engagement far from the oceanfront villa she always used when he became Roger. Adelle’s fingers traced the outline of the hand that rested so comfortably against her own body, stiffening as she pieced together bits of information. She remembered arriving at the house exhausted and upset, but undeniably alone. These fingers – too short for Victor’s, and thin as well. The skin was baby soft, unlike that of any man’s she knew. Warily, she glanced back at her bedmate, and froze. Brown hair, slender arms, pale skin. Warm breath tickled the back of her neck, and a soft scent enveloped her – clean and fresh, hard to put a name to. Every muscle in Adelle’s body went rigid, and it was all she could do to keep from leaping out of bed and running from the room. Instead she slid out from beneath the encircling arm and rose without disturbing her companion. She walked all the way to the door before looking back, praying that she had been mistaken, that her mind had played a trick on her. But no – this was no trick, no dream, and there was no denying that in her bed lay the one person she would never, ever have wanted to see there. Turning, she left the room and went to look for her phone: some people had a lot to answer for.


	2. Chapter 2

(24 Hours Earlier)

 

“And clear a space in the afternoon for a physical. Tango is still out on assignment and won’t be back until tomorrow, so her usual time should be free.”

Though she could not see Judith through the intercom, Adelle instinctively felt the woman nod. “That’s that, then. I trust you to see to the logistics”. 

She terminated the conversation, then swiveled in her chair to face the young man standing awkwardly in the corner. Topher was wearing his ubiquitous argyle sweater-vest, and looked as uncomfortable as ever to find himself in the office of the “Boss-Lady". His glance darted to the large floor-to-ceiling windows, then to the cabinet, which displayed a variety of expensive liquor, then to the elevator that led to the Dollhouse far below, and finally to Adelle herself. She raised an eyebrow at him. “You had asked to see me?”

Topher nodded. “Yeah. About the newbie –“

“Transfer,” Adelle interrupted, “The active is neither new nor a permanent fixture at our house. We are simply acting as hosts, of a kind”.

Topher rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Our extra-special guest may be having a mindless vegetable play date at our place, but eventually there will be an engagement. An engagement means an imprint, and an imprint means me, but I can’t make an imprint without knowing what the hell I’m imprinting someone to do! Is this a romantic engagement, a protection one, what? If it’s a specialty job, and I’m guessing it might be considering they are carting this doll in all the way from London, I’ll need time to work on it a bit.”

“You needn’t worry about that.” Adelle reached for a file on her desk. Along the edge was a navy-blue stripe that they both knew indicated a top-priority engagement. She flipped open the file and turned to a page near the end. “According to my superiors,” she could not help but add a hint of derision to the word ‘superior’ – Clive Ambrose was superior to her in height, but that was about it, “This engagement is pre-arranged, and therefore pre-programmed. The active will arrive here in doll state, then spend twelve hours recuperating and so forth, before being imprinted and leaving at midnight for the engagement. We will be sure to take all precautions as regards the active’s safety and health, but the time frame is so short that I doubt we will have much interaction with either handler or active. Still, it always pays to take precautions, and I would prefer no complications. Arrangements between houses can sometimes be…” she searched for the proper word, “difficult. I trust that you will do your best to help the process run smoothly.”

Topher nodded, though he still looked skeptical. “So we just do everything the higher-ups say, no questions asked?”

“Precisely.” Adelle’s voice held a finality that even Topher couldn’t overlook, and the tech genius wandered to the elevator, muttering about personalities and machinery and possibly juice boxes. Just as he reached the doors he turned back to Adelle. “Who is this active anyway?”

“I didn’t ask,” Adelle responded coolly. “I find it better if I don’t know the origin stories of the actives second-hand, and considering that this active is not even under my jurisdiction I have no interest in digging deeper.”

“Not that,” Topher looked exasperated again, “I don’t care about that. What code name, though?”

Adelle paused, glancing back down at the file. “Code name…Charlie.”


	3. Chapter 3

“They’re late.”

Boyd stood a few feet in front of Adelle’s desk, his face devoid of any feeling, but Adelle knew him well enough by now to detect hints of emotion in his tone or his body language. “The handler reported that they’d taken off a few minutes late from Heathrow; they are probably still airborne. We’ll be informed upon their arrival, I have no doubt, and until then there is nothing to do but wait.” She eyed him closely. “Why does this bother you?”

Boyd gave her a look that she recognized, one that said he wasn’t sure whether to trust her or not, but he seemed to have decided for the moment that no harm could come from being honest, because he relaxed just slightly. “It isn’t that they’re late, it is just such an odd occurrence, that’s what worries me. I didn’t even know temporary, one-engagement transfers happened, and it leaves me with a lot of unanswered questions. Why this particular active, ‘Charlie’? What was wrong with sending one of our own actives on this engagement? And sending an active all the way from London, going to that much trouble – the client must be both extremely wealthy and extremely particular. They’ve probably already used this active and are requesting a repeat engagement. You know how I feel about those – it makes the client feel like they own that particular active, which never ends well.”

“I think you’re getting ahead of yourself. This job is not in our control – we are acting only as hosts for a few hours, for the rest for the time the other house still has jurisdiction. It is not our concern who the client is, and whether they are attached to Charlie or not is of little concern to me. The London house will deal with any complications that arise during the engagement.”

“And if there are complications here?”

Adelle glanced sharply at him. “What do you mean?”

Boyd sighed. “If anything goes wrong with the imprinting, any accident or mistake, it will be considered our fault. Your fault, to be exact. Considering your recent disagreements with those higher up, it would be very easy for them to send us someone who would wreak havoc with our operation. What better excuse to change the chain of command than to throw the House into confusion. You’ve said they’re bringing their own wedge – what if it has a virus in it?”

“That is an area I gladly leave to Topher. I have no doubt the imprinting technology is well protected against interference, and I doubt anyone will try. My employers and I have had our differences, but the L.A. operation is far too lucrative for them to do anything to sabotage it. Besides, this is hardly a union organization: if Rossum wishes to dispose of me or of anyone else they will do it swiftly and without pretense. They need no grounds for dismissal, and any change in the command structure of this house will come at the point of a gun. I know too much for them to ever let me walk out of this house. It is the price I have to pay.” She sighed, feeling the start of a headache coming on. “I don’t mean to be overdramatic – quite the opposite, in fact. I think your fears are groundless, that is all. This operation may be odd, but our House is perfectly capable of handling it, and it will be finished in a few hours time. At which point, I expect everything to return to normal, is that understood?”

Boyd nodded reluctantly. “Perhaps this delay is for the best, then. The less time they spend here, the better.” Suddenly he raised a hand to his earpiece, his body going tense. “What? When?”

There was a moment of silence as the person responded, then Boyd asked tersely “Do they have credentials, any proof…?”

Another pause before he relaxed slightly. “Oh. Wait there with them, I’ll be right down.”

He lowered his hand slowly. Adelle crossed her arms and waited for him to look at her. When he did, she could see the wariness had returned to his eyes. “For some reason, we were not informed when they landed. Instead they are now waiting in the parking lot. Security says they have credentials, but I’m going to check myself before I let them anywhere near the House itself.”

“Good,” Adelle responded briskly, “send them up here when you’re done. I’d like to talk with the handler before Charlie goes in for a physical.”

Boyd nodded and left, leaving Adelle alone. She sat in her chair and stared blankly at the papers that lay scattered atop it. A sudden idea made her reach for the intercom button. “Judith, please have tea sent up as soon as possible. No, Earl Gray. Thank you.”

She sat back in her chair, thinking. It was true that their schedule was a bit disordered because of the delay, but there should still be enough time for Charlie to have a physical and a massage before sleeping for a few hours. Luckily, Adelle was not in charge of overcoming the active’s jet lag – the engagement began at midnight, 9AM for someone on London time. With some decent sleep, Charlie would be rested enough to complete any engagement, or at least, any romantic one. She doubted that a special active had been sent for any other purpose – why else would a specific person be requested, if not for that reason? The telephone rang, making her jump. She answered it with a curt, “Dewitt.”

“They’re headed up now.” 

Adelle recognized Boyd’s voice, though he sounded a bit odd. “Good. Any complications?”

“Not exactly, no.” In her mind’s eye she could almost see him shifting his weight from side to side. “You’ll see when they get up there.”

Adelle sighed. “Alright. Let me know if there are any further difficulties.”

She felt Boyd nod on the other end of the line, and heard him grunt in consent. Setting the receiver down, she heard a knock on the door, and Judith entered, carrying a tea tray with two cups. “On the table there, if you please.”

Judith obeyed, and Adelle walked slowly to stand a few yards from the elevator. She heard a chime as it reached the penthouse, and the doors slid silently open. Adelle’s eyes widened in shock as a child dressed in loose fitting black pants and a teal camisole stepped out. Dark brown hair brushed the girl’s shoulders, one side held back by a small silver clip in the shape of a bow. She looked to be around ten years old. Blank green eyes met Adelle’s, and the child smiled softly as she nodded a greeting. A thin man in a dark suit stepped out behind her, laying a hand on her shoulder. He looked at Adelle, who still stood dumbfounded, and smiled crookedly. “Ms. Dewitt, I assume.” 

His accent was British, though it held none of the softness or grace that she so cultivated. Adelle collected herself enough to nod stiffly. The man turned to the child and applied pressure to the girl’s shoulder, forcing her to take a step forward. Her eyes never left Adelle’s face as she smiled vacantly. “Hello. My name’s Charlie.”


	4. Chapter 4

“This is wrong.”

An hour later, Adelle found herself in Dr. Saunders’ office watching the agitated doctor pace the room, straightening things and shuffling papers as she went in an attempt to regain control of herself. She was having no luck however, as her eyes still blazed with indignation and defiance. She turned to Adelle, who was leaning ever so slightly against the doctor’s desk for support, and planted her feet. “I will not give my approval for her to leave the house, no matter what her physical turns up. Children cannot sign away their lives; they can’t make those decisions the way adults can. My God, when she wakes up she’ll be in an adult body, when she went in as a child. Can you imagine a teenager with the mind of a ten-year-old?” Her eyes flickered away from Adelle’s and she blanched ever so slightly as she considered the implications of a child active. “This is by far the most revolting thing Rossum has ever done. I can’t sanction it, even if it means my dismissal.”

Adelle sighed. “Admirable as your sentiments are, you have no choice in this matter. If she were one of our actives – and I thank heaven she is not, for I too have my reservations about this matter – your input would be crucial to the engagement, but in this case our only task is to rehabilitate her from her journey. The decision of where she goes when is not up to you or me, much as we would like it to be.”

Doctor Saunders glared at Adelle so fiercely that the director nearly took a step back, but stopped herself in time to keep from hitting the desk. “I guess your ‘reservations’ don’t include ensuring Charlie’s health and well being. Isn’t there anything you can do, people you could call higher up on the ladder?”

Adelle shook her head sadly. “In this case I doubt it. But I want to know your findings as soon as you finish with her. I’d like to see just how much damage Rossum is willing to inflict upon children like this. We may not be able to help Charlie, but I doubt she is the only child active out there. This must be curtailed as soon as possible. I understand that fact, I assure you.”

Dr. Saunders nodded, her anger fading into concern once more. “I’ll do my best with her. I haven’t worked a pediatric case in…well, since medical school.”

“Just do what you do on all the other female actives. I doubt there are many differences, not when it comes to routine physicals before engagements.”

Dr. Saunders nodded, her mind clearly drifting to other subjects, and Adelle took the opportunity to make her exit. As she walked back towards the elevators, she spotted Charlie’s handler talking with a member of the security detail. “Mr. Fredrickson, a word if you please?”

The man hesitated a moment, then walked to join her. She motioned towards the corner and the two of them retreated there so as not to be overheard. Once she was certain they would not be disturbed she turned to face him, brow furrowed. “Mr. Fredrickson, how long have you been Charlie’s handler?”

“Not long,” Fredrickson replied, but he did not elaborate.

Adelle gritted her teeth. “How did she come to be…in her current position?”

Fredrickson raised an eyebrow. “You mean as a doll?”

Adelle frowned at the way the man said “doll”, as if the actives were not even human, but nodded.

Fredrickson shrugged. “The same way as most. Her history is no concern of yours; she’s only here for the day.”

Adelle bristled. “I am concerned with everything that goes on in this house, even short term engagements such as this. It would be helpful to me to know exactly what sort of active we are dealing with. I am sure that Topher could use the information, as he has not imprinted an active this young before, and I-“

“Your Topher will do his job. The wedge is prefabricated, any fool could figure out how to insert the wedge into the chair and press ‘start’. More information is unnecessary, and I have no obligation to share with you any details concerning our engagement here.”

Adelle’s fists clenched, her anger seething beneath her calm exterior. “I am the head of this house.”

“I answer to a higher authority than you. Compared to my superiors, you are inconsequential. Any interference on your part, though, would be looked upon unfavorably. I’d hate to have to report you as uncooperative. Just do your job and we’ll be on our way. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go check on my charge.”

Adelle nodded stiffly. “Of course. She’ll be finishing her physical.” The man turned and walked casually across the room, stopping now and then to peer at the actives as they did yoga and meditated. Adelle leaned against the wall, closing her eyes to block out the sight of him. As much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Her job did not include gathering information about Charlie’s history. It did not even include keeping the little girl safe during her engagement. That was the territory of her handler, who seemed less than concerned about his charge’s well being. The memory of the man’s smirk as he rebuffed her questions made heat rise to her face once more. Shaking her head in disgust, she opened her eyes, then jumped as she saw Dr. Saunders standing a foot away from her. “Dr. Saunders, I didn’t expect you to finish with Charlie so fast.”

“She’s resting now. I’ve sent her to Pod Room Four to sleep for a while.” 

Saunders’ voice was stripped of emotion, her face wooden. Compared to her emotional state earlier, she looked like a different person entirely. In a way, Adelle had preferred the old Saunders – it wasn’t hard to predict that the doctor would react protectively. But this Saunders was different, unnervingly calm, with eyes that seemed to have lost their life altogether. Adelle was gripped by the urge to take a step away, but held her ground. “What were the results of the physical? Any problems?”

“She is in perfect health. Her reflexes, vision, hearing, all check out.”

“Ah. Well, that’s fine then.” 

The doctor nodded, eyes still blank, and turned to go. She had taken only a few steps when she stopped dead. For a moment she did not move a muscle, and Adelle was about to ask if she was feeling well, when the doctor’s soft voice drifted back to her. “I did a full physical on her.”

Adelle nodded, confused, then realized Saunders had her back turned, and therefore couldn’t see her. “Yes, you’ve said that.”

“A full physical,” Saunders’ repeated, her voice barely above a whisper, “Everything that I’d do with an adult active.”

Adelle felt a twinge of apprehension. “Yes, that’s what I instructed you to do.”

Saunders still stood with her back to Adelle, though she’d begun to tremble ever so slightly. “I followed all the procedures. I did a stress test, blood pressure, reflexes; I checked her vision, hearing, listened to her lungs, felt her pulse. And then I did a pelvic exam.”

Adelle felt a chill run through her. She knew, with out a doubt, what Saunders would say next, and she wanted more than anything not to hear, not to know. “I see. That is standard, I’d forgotten.”

Saunders nodded. “Standard. Yes. Standard for every active that takes on romantic engagements.”

Adelle closed her eyes once more. “And?” she asked, already aware of what the answer must be. 

“Not recently. Not in the past month. But she’s been sent on them before.”

Adelle nodded, not trusting herself to speak, but Saunders seemed to sense her response. “I thought you should be informed.” Bowing her head, the doctor walked slowly back across the room towards her office, taking no heed of anything around her. 

Adelle stared blankly after her, her mind filled with dark thoughts. She’s known, somehow, from the moment she set eyes on Charlie, that the Rossum Corporation could never pass up that kind of opportunity. After all, the rich were known for their fetishes, that much was proven every day at the dollhouse. But it was one thing to imprint Echo or Sierra as a naughty schoolgirl, and quite another thing to send a child out into the waiting arms of some pedophile, bloated with power and lust and knowing that nothing he did to the little girl would have any consequences. Every nerve in Adelle’s body screamed that she had a duty to protect Charlie from harm, that the act of selling off a child was unforgivable. Turning, she raised a hand and slammed her fist into the wall in frustration. She heard murmurs behind her and realized that she still stood in the main room of the dollhouse. The actives were staring at her in bemusement, their handlers trading confused glances. Straightening up, she walked calmly to the elevator, her back rigidly straight. Ignoring the stares, she stepped into the elevator and pressed the button that would take her back to her office. Once there she walked straight to her cabinet and chose the smallest crystal decanter, the one filled with her finest scotch. Pouring herself a small glass, she downed it in one try, then refilled it and retreated to her desk. It was going to be a long evening.


	5. Chapter 5

The hours ticked by unbearably slowly as she waited in her office. She tried to work, but her mind kept drifting away, down to the dollhouse and its visitor. Finally, after her fifth glass of scotch, she could stand it no longer. By now the sky outside was dark, and she knew that most of the staff would have gone home. It was almost eleven; the halls were deserted. She did not even realize where she was headed until she reached the doorway to Pod Room Four. She paused, leaning against the doorframe, and surveyed the room. Of the five units, only four were in use. Romeo and Oscar were still out on overnight engagements, and yet a light still emanated from Romeo’s normal unit. Adelle walked hesitantly over to peer down into the pod. Through the frosted glass, she could just make out the curled up form of Charlie, her dark hair a sharp contrast against the muted gold interior. Adelle stood there for what seemed like an eternity, gazing down at the slumbering girl, before the sound of a throat clearing made her jump. She turned to see Fredrickson watching her, and beside him stood Topher, who looked as uncomfortable as he always did when he was forced to leave his lair of technology. He fiddled with a panel on the wall and the light inside Charlie’s pod faded. Fredrickson strode past Adelle without a glance, kneeling at the edge of the pod and gathering Charlie into his arms. The girl’s limbs flopped limply, her mind and body still under the influence of the sleeping gas that was piped into the pods each night. Adelle glanced pointedly at Topher, who pretended not to see her, before turning to Fredrickson. “One moment. Don’t you think you should let her wake up before you rush to imprint her?”

Fredrickson sighed condescendingly. “Already become attached to her? I’m afraid the time has come for us to depart. Don’t worry – I’m sure that whoever Charlie is in a few minutes will be wide-awake and ready to start a new adventure! Pity she won’t remember it, but then, maybe it’s better that way. Regardless, she’ll accept the imprint no matter how awake or asleep she is. That is, if your tech expert can be trusted to do his job.”

Topher glared at Fredrickson. “The human mind isn’t an etch-a-sketch, there are nuances and individual permutations unique to each active. But yes, I can imprint her now, with your fancy little Built-in-London wedge, as long as YOUR tech 'experts' haven’t screwed things up.”

He walked towards the doorway, Fredrickson following with Charlie in his arms, but paused and glanced back at Adelle. “Are you coming?”

Her eyes met Fredrickson’s, and she felt a new weight added to her chest as she realized there was nothing to be done now. Watching the process, watching as the girl sat in Topher’s too-big chair and transformed into a different person, would only make it worse. “No, go on. You know what to do. Mr. Fredrickson, I wish you luck on the engagement.”

Fredrickson’s smirk made her want to slap him, but a moment later he’d disappeared around the corner, following Topher up to the lab. She could hear the tech genius babbling on about something, but she had no more strength to care. Every limb felt heavy, exhausted, her head throbbed with the beginnings of a migraine. The alcohol had done nothing for her, nothing good anyway, and now all that remained was to return to her office and start on the vodka, or to leave, to run away until she reached her oceanside villa and hope that she could leave the memories of this awful day behind as well. Walking slowly to the wall panel, she input a code and pressed down a small black button. “Yes, Thomas? I’ll need a car. A driver too, I think. Now, if you please.”

An hour later she was opening the front door of her whitewashed villa. It had been some time since she’d managed to make it all the way to the beach. Normally she had only a few hours before she had to return to work, and so she either stayed at her small loft in the city or, as was more frequent these days, slept on the couch in her office. Unbeknownst to the staff, she had several days’ worth of clothes and necessities tucked away in the coat closet. But tonight was different. She knew she’d have to be back in the morning, that the drive would add commuting time that would cut into her sleep, but she couldn’t stand the thought of another hour in that house. Tomorrow Charlie would be a mere memory and the house, her house, could return to normal. Dropping her keys on the kitchen counter, she staggered to the bedroom and crawled between the sheets without removing her clothes. She was asleep almost instantly.


	6. Chapter 6

The pain, the exhaustion, all of it was replaced by shock and panicked confusion as she backed away from the girl lying in her bed. She retreated into the hallway and nearly slipped as she stepped onto the hardwood floor, and she cursed under her breath as she realized she still wore her stockings from the day before. Tearing them off, she strode through the house in search of her phone. Upon retrieving it from the kitchen counter, she scrolled through numbers until she reached the one beneath the heading “Topher Brink”. She dialed and waited impatiently. After four rings a sarcastic voice came through the speakers. “Hi, you’ve reached Topher. If it’s important, come find me, if not, I don’t care.” 

Adelle made a noise of frustration. “Topher, pick up. I know you have an answering machine you can listen to, I bought it for your office, and I know you’re still there, you’re always there.”

A small click was audible, and then a groggier version of the sarcastic voice came on the line. “What’s up, Boss Lady? 5 AM is a bit early for socializing, even for the British. Not all of us live off of tea.” 

Adelle ignored him. “Topher, what happened last night?”

“Last night?” There was a moment’s pause. “Well, first I went over the Victor imprint for tomorrow, then I checked the chem levels on the pods, then –“

“With Charlie, Topher. What happened with Charlie?”

Topher’s pause was longer this time, and Adelle felt her impatience mounting. “Answer me.”

“Right,” Topher said, and she could sense his nervousness. “Well, I mean, I did the imprint, just like I’d said I would. Took longer than normal, probably because those London tech jocks screwed things up. Then Fredrickson just picked her up and carried her out again. Nothing to it.”

“Carried her out?” Adelle repeated, “She was still unconscious, even after the imprint? How did you know that the imprint had taken, that there hadn’t been some sort of malfunction or glitch?”

“I did brain scans. I’m not an idiot.” Topher’s tone had become mulish and defensive. “I knew I had to double check everything those London tech jocks did. But there are no viruses in the chair that I can see, and the brainwaves coming from Charlie’s head match the ones listed in the wedge, so as far as I know she’s imprinted the way she should be. And anyway,” he said, suddenly sounding suspicious, “I thought that wasn’t our responsibility. If she malfunctions on the job, it’s London’s problem.”

Adelle gritted her teeth. At this point, it would be unwise to let anyone know where Charlie had ended up. This could be just what Boyd had been talking about – a way to incriminate her or an excuse to get rid of her. Consorting with an active. Though of course, she’d done that before, with Roger, and she was fairly certain she was not the only house director to do so. It made no sense, none at all. She realized she still held the phone, and that Topher was breathing rather loudly in her ear. “That’s enough, Topher. Thank you for the information. Back to work.”

“Wait a sec’, why are–“ she heard him say, but she broke off the call before he could finish. 

Looking around the kitchen, she spotted something beneath her breakfast table that had not been there before. She crossed warily to the table and crouched down, pulling the object from where it had been wedged and praying it wasn’t some sort of explosive device. It seemed to be a bag of some sort, and as she lifted it off the floor to put it on the counter, her eyes widened. It was not a bag but a small backpack, purple with little yellow flowers embroidered on the pockets. She tipped the backpack over, dumping its contents onto the counter. Colored pencils, crayons, a spelling book and a notepad with brightly colored balloons on the cover fell out. She checked every pocket, but there was no other clue as to why Charlie was suddenly in her home. Her eye caught on a tag, like those used for luggage, which was attached to the handle of the backpack. The name on it was “Charlotte DeWitt”, the address her own.

She straightened, taking a step away from the counter and the items still strewn across it. Reaching for her phone, she searched the address book until she came across she needed. She pressed the call button more forcefully than was necessary, then held the phone to her ear as she listened to it dial and begin ringing. One…two…on the fifth ring she heard someone pick up, and a man’s voice uttered a curt, “Hello?”

“Clive, what the hell is going on?”

“Ah, Adelle. Should have known it would be you.” Though he was hundreds of miles away, Adelle could practically see Clive Ambrose smile. “Didn’t think you’d call this early, not after staying so late at the office.”

Adelle felt her fingers clench and was very glad she had opted for a resilient phone rather than a stylish one. “Stop stalling and tell me. Why is she here?”

“Oh, I’m not stalling.” Clive’s tone was almost gleeful. “I’m enjoying. It took a long time to figure out how best to deal with you, Adelle. So many options, none of them ideal, but then Charlie came along and solved all our difficulties for us. Really a stroke of luck.” He seemed to sense Adelle’s growing anger, for his tone shifted away from gloating and into a more serious vein. “You’ve been a problem for a while, Adelle. Rossum hasn’t known whether to trust you, trust your loyalty, but your track record with your actives is too good to waste. Something had to be done to ensure that you would stay reliably on the side of the Rossum Corporation. From now on, Charlie will ensure that.”

“How?” Adelle demanded through clenched teeth. “By murdering me in my sleep if I tick off one too many people? A ten-year-old assassin at your beck and call?”

Clive laughed. “No, not in the slightest. Believe me, if we wanted to take you out we would use a better assassin than Charlie. No, this is a different sort of insurance for us. In a way, you could even consider it a bonus. It’s clear that you have a strong maternal instinct, and as you have no child of—“

“I am not going to play house with a doll!” She realized she was shouting and lowered her voice. “My ‘maternal instinct’, as you call it, is no more than my job demands. I have no need to take my job home with me.” She winced, remembering Roger. “I know that what dolls provide is nothing but a shadow of reality.”

“An excellent lesson to live by.” Clive sounded smug. “And certainly, were we to simply provide you a doll for entertainment purposes, we could have chosen others. But this is different. You see, Charlie is not a doll. Not anymore.”

“What are you talking about? I saw her come into the LA house yesterday. I saw the wedge she was to be imprinted with, and the way she acted.” Adelle bit her lip, then continued. “Despite her age, she is as much a doll as any of the others.”

“Ah, but that was yesterday,” Clive said. “Today she is a complete person, a lasting imprint as embedded into her consciousness as her original. She will not be imprinted again – she has no handler, and arrangements have been made for her to live with you on a permanent basis.”

“And after five years, when her contract is up?”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Clive spoke again he was quite grave. “There is no contract. She will not be returning to her original consciousness.”

“No contract?” Adelle whispered. “You can’t do that – that isn’t the way our system works. Everyone contracts for a few years, in exchange for a hefty salary when they are done. If she never finishes, she’s nothing more than a…” her eyes darted towards the hall and the door to her bedroom, “a slave.”

“There are exceptions to every rule.” There was a strange note of kindness in Clive’s voice, though it did not seem to be directed towards Adelle. “In Charlie’s case she requested never to return to her past life – to start over entirely.”

“She’s a child.” Adelle’s teeth were clenched. “She’s not old enough to make those kinds of decisions. She should never have been approached at all.”

“She wasn’t – not in the usual way.” Clive sighed. “I had hoped to avoid delving into the girl’s past, but I cannot have you thinking that Rossum has actively begun recruiting children. We have done no such thing. Charlie was a suicide jumper.” He ignored Adelle’s gasp and continued. “She climbed the Rossum house building in London. One of the actives and his handler were close enough to grab her before she could throw herself off the roof. She would not answer questions about her family, her home, anything. The house psychologist was called in but the girl kept insisting that her life had to end, that she could not stand to live any longer. She said that unless we had a way to erase her memories forever, then the only thing we could do to help would be to stay out of her way.”

“And so you did as she asked? You took the word of a ten-year-old as a binding contract?”

“We explained it to her fully. We offered her the five-year plan that all actives take, but she refused. She did not want money, she said, she wanted a new life, a fresh start with an unscarred mind. You must understand, Adelle, the decision to wipe her memories was not taken lightly. But in the end, we did as she asked.”

“And then you sold her as an active to the highest bidder.” Adelle was shaking with fury. “You betrayed her trust the moment you realized how much she’d be worth to every perverted scum with a few millions to spare.”

“No, Adelle.” Clive said quietly. “She has only been at the London house for a month. She has been sent on no engagements but this one. If you play your part, she will never be sent on any others.”

Adelle was silent, realizing what his words must mean. Her compassion for the little girl in her bedroom grew. “What do you want me to do?”

“Your job,” Clive replied. “Nothing more than that. If you do so, then we will allow Charlie to stay with you indefinitely. It’s in everyone’s best interest for her to have a stable home. If something goes wrong at work – if your loyalties are, in fact, unreliable…well, even the strongest of imprints can probably be overcome with enough time in the chair. It’s your choice, then – allow Charlie to grow up normally, going to school and making friends as she should have, or force her to become everything you feared she’d be – a child active, imprintable at will.”

She had no choice, and she knew it. With considerable willpower, she forced herself to speak. “Next time Rossum has a problem with me, I would request that they take it up with me directly, and not involve children in their scheming.” 

Without another word, she ended the call and thrust the phone away.


	7. Chapter 7

She did not move for several minutes, her mind lost in thought about the strange little girl over whom she now had custody. The sound of a door opening roused her from her reverie. She turned to see Charlie standing in the doorway of her bedroom. The girl was dressed in pink pajamas with a pattern of purple stars. When she saw Adelle she walked towards her, smiling groggily. “Hi, Mum. Have you seen my backpack?”

Adelle jumped at being addressed as “Mum”, then pointed towards the counter where the contents of the backpack lay strewn about. She opened her mouth to apologize to the girl for going through her things, but Charlie didn’t seem at all disturbed by the state of her schoolbooks and supplies. She searched through the pile until she found a notebook and a pencil, then started to draw. “I had the strangest dream last night. I’m trying to remember it – it’s all broken up now, hard to put back together.” She paused in her drawing, grabbed a different colored pencil, and continued. “There was all this blue light everywhere, like lightning only more of it, a whole storm of blue. I was scared of it, a bit, not too much though.” She held up the drawing for Adelle to see. “I think it might have been why I crawled in with you. I’m sorry – I know you were tired, I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

Adelle leaned forward and examined Charlie’s drawing. The girl had drawn a crude picture of a chair, surrounded by blue light. It was, undeniably, the imprinting chair. “I didn’t mind,” Adelle mumbled, when she had managed to gather her thoughts. “I slept fine.”

Charlie’s grin seemed to take up half of her face. “Good! What’s for breakfast?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Adelle grabbed a carton of eggs from her refrigerator and set to work. Charlie chatted happily about the friends she hoped to make at her new school and how she had her fingers crossed that she would find someone who loved horses as much as she did. While she talked, Adelle examined her from every angle. The girl was slender and small for her age, but her eyes were bright and intelligent. Her voice had the same delicate British accent as Adelle’s, which made the woman smile wryly. Her superiors had tried very hard to make it seem as though Charlie really was Adelle’s daughter. As she set out plates for herself and Charlie, she found herself wondering things she’d never wondered before – how far away was this Washington Elementary School? When did class start, and more importantly, when did it end? Was it a decent school? If Charlie was starting after the rest of the children had already begun, then would she be behind in her schoolwork? Adelle shook her head. One step at a time. She spent the rest of the morning carefully conversing with the child, trying to find out as much as she could. What she found was a perfectly normal little girl, brighter than most, who loved animals and fantasy books and drawing and playing outside in the sun. When Adelle compared the cheerful girl in front of her with the emotionless doll of the day before and the tragic, desperate child Clive Ambrose had described, it seemed impossible that they all could be the same person. She helped the girl gather up her things for school and walked her out the door. The car she normally took to work had arrived, and she ushered Charlie into it, instructing the driver to proceed to the school rather than directly to the dollhouse. The car drew up ten minutes later outside a whitewashed, mission-style building with a sign that read “Washington Elementary – Home of the Lions”. Charlie opened the door and jumped out, but had only taken a step before she turned back, looking worried. Adelle felt a rush of sympathy, and slid over so that she could take Charlie’s hand. “It will be alright. They’re going to love you.”

Charlie hugged her tightly. “Thanks, Mum. I’ll see you tonight.”

With that she ran off towards the front doors of the school, as the bell rang a five-minute warning before class began. Adelle closed the door, then sat back and motioned the driver to continue on. The logistics of suddenly having custody of a child would be staggeringly different, but manageable. Decisions about Charlie’s future would be made in time, but for the moment the girl’s safety was all that mattered. An image of Charlie’s grin flashed across Adelle’s mind, and she found herself smiling as she stared out the window at LA’s busy streets. The bastards at Rossum really did know her. They had chosen the one thing most likely to affect her, the one thing she knew she could never have. Adelle had long ago given up any hope of a family in pursuit of her work – her only “dates” in the last five years had been with Roger, and that hardly counted seeing as how she’d had to program him to love her. Children had been out of the question. A large part of her knew that Rossum could not be trusted, that their insertion of Charlie into her life had been a strategic maneuver, but there was another part, a part that was overjoyed to have the opportunity of keeping a child from harm. Seeing Charlie lying so helplessly in her handler’s arms and being unable to stop whatever atrocity could happen next had nearly killed her. Now she had enough control over Charlie’s life to keep her out of harm's way. And if Rossum tried to take the girl from her, well, she had plans for that too. For the moment, she would enjoy the one chance she had of being a mother.


End file.
